Chapter 19
Mia
Mia rushes past John, barely aware of the fact that he’s keeping pace with her as she hurries outdoors.
The crisp winter air fills her lungs and stings her cheeks, and both sensations are enough to lend her a measure of calm.
The snow crunches beneath her feet and she squints out into the darkness, trying to pull herself together.
‘Fun time with your family?’ John’s eyes are dancing.
Mia shakes her head. ‘Listen, ghost man. I don’t particularly have space for your wisecracking at the moment.
’ She sucks in a breath. Up until this moment, she’s been thankful for her family’s presence preventing any uncomfortably intimate moments between her and Sam.
But now that things are shifting between them, she suddenly wishes they didn’t have a constant audience bearing witness to the minutiae of their interactions.
If only she could find a few moments alone with Sam this evening.
How would he respond if she initiated this time?
She curses herself for not taking advantage of their time in the cottage earlier, for letting her emotions overrule her body.
John interrupts her train of thought. ‘It was nice to see you so happy. You might even say it was a welcome change.’
Mia snorts. ‘I’m glad my emotional state is so important to you.’
‘I’m just saying. I think it’s worth taking a chance. With Sam, I mean.’
‘I know what you mean. You’re about as subtle as a neon sign, John.
’ Mia kicks at a clump of snow. ‘Sam is great. Always has been. But I’m just not convinced it’s worth the risk to try and start something with him.
’ She’s annoyed to find that her voice is trembling.
‘I promised myself I would never fall for that schtick again. I’m smarter than that. ’
‘How’s that been working out for you?’ John’s voice is gentler, all pretence of teasing dropped.
It’s not too much of a stretch to think he actually might care about her happiness.
But then again, John is convinced helping Mia is his path to crossing over.
What if that’s the only reason he’s pushing her towards Sam?
Mia sighs, shaking her head, disbelieving of how jaded she’s become.
For a moment she considers what life will be like if she continues on this path.
Always doubting people’s care for her. Shutting out anyone besides family who makes her feel, even the tiniest bit.
The idea is terribly depressing. To be honest, that’s not the kind of person she wants to be.
‘That boy looks at you like you’re his Mona Lisa, you know. The masterpiece he’s been looking for his whole life.’
Mia swallows hard, trying to rid herself of the sudden lump in her throat.
‘It’s a rare thing, for someone to see you and think you’re beyond special. I should know. Trust me, Mia. Running from it will only get you a lifetime of regrets.’
‘You seem like you’re speaking from experience.’
John laughs. The sound has a bitter, hollow edge to it. ‘Indeed.’
‘Is this about that Alastair guy?’ His head swivels around, meeting her gaze with wide-eyed surprise. ‘You know, the redhead in the pictures.’
‘I know who Alastair is,’ John practically grinds out. ‘It’s not like he was easy to forget.’
‘Do tell,’ Mia says. Then she falls silent, waiting to see what John will say next. If he shares, it will be a welcome reprieve from her thoughts about Sam.
John leans down to pick up a stick that’s been partially buried in the snow. He knocks it against the wall behind him to free it from the snow, then twirls it in his fingers.
‘I’m not sure how to talk about this, Mia. You say things are different now. That’s wonderful. But in my time, it wasn’t – well, people weren’t as understanding.’
Mia nods. She’s had a suspicion about where this is going. ‘I can imagine.’
John breaks off little pieces of the stick and tosses them one at a time into the yard.
‘I never really felt like I fitted in when I was growing up. I liked school well enough, and sports weren’t really my thing.
My friends were all obsessed with how far they could get with the girls, and that just never appealed to me.
It took me a while to realize that I was just wired differently.
And I never felt like it was that big a deal.
I’ve always resisted being defined by one thing, in any case. Well, at least until I became a ghost.
‘No one would have accepted me being gay, anyway. Least of all my mum. She was always so supportive of me and I know she loved me, but she was ridiculously traditional. I think it would have been too much for her to accept. So, I focused instead on pursuing a career that I liked. When I started here, at Willowby Manor, I knew I’d found it.
Working on this property filled me up in ways I didn’t know were possible …
it gave me a creative outlet I’d never had before.
‘When Alastair came along, it took me by complete surprise. I was happy in my life. Truly. But he stirred up something in me. A longing, if you will, for more.’ John flicks the last of the stick out into the yard and runs a hand through his perfectly coiffed hair.
‘Alastair was larger than life. And I don’t mean just physically, although that man could turn heads.
But he just had this … passion. A zeal for life that I found almost irresistible.
He didn’t let anyone tell him who he could or couldn’t be.
‘We were in love, but I wanted everything to be kept secret. He wanted us to be together openly, always telling me that it would be a crying shame to let society dictate who we were allowed to love. He had no problem risking it all. Said there was no other way to live.’
John hesitates, looking out into the darkness as if staring into his own past. ‘But it wasn’t the same for me.
I saw what we would have been risking. What I might have to give up to be with him openly.
And, honestly? The cost was high. I could have lost my job here.
And if my mum ever found out … Alastair was asking me to be something I’m not.
To be someone who doesn’t weigh the consequences. ’
‘So, what happened?’ Mia asks this gently, because she can see how much this walk down memory lane is hurting John.
‘He showed up at the Willowby Christmas party. I must have mentioned when it was, and he thought he could force my hand by showing up and saying we were a couple. But I wasn’t ready, and I was so mad that Alastair was trying to push me because he was tired of waiting.
So …’ John lets out a long exhale. ‘I just pretended I didn’t really know him.
I made up some story about how we’d been in the same school growing up, but I was as surprised as anyone else that he had shown up to the party.
Alastair stormed out, and I had to stay, because to go after him would have implied he meant something to me. ’
‘Did you work it out with him afterwards?’
John shakes his head slowly. ‘I never saw him again.’
‘That’s so sad. I’m really sorry that happened to you. And to Alastair.’ Mia shuffles in the snow, listening to it crunch beneath her boots. ‘I guess I can kind of see now why you’ve been pushing so hard for me to give Sam another chance.’
‘Exactly,’ John says, his relief at being understood evident.
‘And very interesting too. I thought ghosting was a twenty-first-century phenomenon. Turns out it’s been around a lot longer.’
‘Well, I’m not sure I would say I ghosted Alastair.’
‘Really?’ Mia tilts her head, studying the lanky man beside her. ‘So, was he the one ignoring your efforts to reconnect after the party?’
‘Well, no,’ John reluctantly responds. ‘I never actually tried to talk to him again. It was easier just to let things die between us.’
‘Easier for you,’ Mia says gently, not wanting to upset him.
‘Well, of course! I was afraid, I think. Alastair was so hurt. I can still see the look in his eyes. It was clear he felt I’d betrayed him.
When he stormed out of the party, I didn’t know how to go after him without being obvious.
So, I just stayed. And afterwards, well, I didn’t know what to say.
So, I didn’t say … anything. I was going to let him cool off for a while.
Let some time go by and then try to maybe explain my point of view to him.
But then the accident happened. And I never got the chance to clear the air with him.
’ John sighs, shoving his hands deep into his pockets.
‘It was a different world then. I’m not sure how things could have ended up differently. ’
‘Yeah, but this isn’t about the world and whether or not it was accepting of your differences. This is about how you treated Alistair. You could have cleared things up in private. Even if you weren’t ready to go public with your relationship.’
John hunches his shoulders, scowling out into the darkness. ‘I suppose that’s true. I should have made more of an effort. Who knows how that would have turned out if I hadn’t died. Although, to be fair, you could have talked to Sam after that night at the pool. And you didn’t.’
‘Because it would have hurt too much,’ agrees Mia. ‘So, I ghosted him instead.’ Sadness settles over her like a blanket.
Despite everything, Mia knows, deep down, that she wouldn’t have done anything differently at the time if she had the chance. She’d needed the distance from Sam to protect herself.
‘I guess that’s why it’s called hindsight, isn’t it?’ Mia starts trudging towards the cottage, followed by John. She pulls up short at the door and turns to him while she pats her pocket, looking for her phone. The little light above the door illuminates him, displaying his sadness sharply.
‘I’ve certainly had plenty of time to ruminate on my own mistakes.’ John accompanies this statement with a hollow laugh.
‘The fact of the matter is you could have done better with Alastair and I could have treated Sam better. At the very least, I could have heard him out.’
‘Relationships can be the most challenging part of life,’ John assures her. ‘I hope you don’t think I’m blaming you for how you acted.’
Mia knows this, but she still isn’t sure what it all means for the future. She pushes against the melancholy she feels and turns back towards the house. ‘I think I left my phone in the big house, John. I guess I’ll see you in the morning.’
Mia lets herself back inside. The house is dark, with only a few lamps left on.
The rest of the family must have already gone to bed while she and John were talking.
She makes her way through the house, locating her phone and stopping in the kitchen to sneak one last jam tart from the batch she made today.
As she enjoys the tart with its delicious, buttery pastry, Mia unlocks her phone and pulls up her contacts.
A few quick taps bring up Sam’s info. She could try again.
Her thumb hovers over the screen. One tap, and he would be unblocked.
Maybe John is right. Maybe Sam deserves a second chance.
Or at least the chance to explain himself.
She unblocks him quickly and pulls up her messages.
But she can’t quite bring her fingers to type out the necessary words. Standing in the kitchen with sticky jam fingers and slightly damp hair, Mia has to admit that her courage has deserted her.
She sets her phone down on the counter, washes her hands and returns to the living room, thinking she just needs to loosen up a bit more. By the light of the still glowing Christmas tree, she mixes herself another martini.
Spending time with John this week has been incredibly illuminating.
Mia hadn’t really thought before now about what she might or might not regret in a few years’ time.
But she couldn’t deny that allowing herself a smidge of emotional vulnerability might be worth it to see if there’s something to be salvaged between her and Sam.
She sips her drink, resolving to invite Sam back down to the cottage.
It’s not that late. They can talk – maybe address some of the hurts of the past. Maybe, finally, give in to the tension that’s been building between them all week.
It is Christmas Eve, after all. And who doesn’t want their own little Christmas miracle?
Mia types out her text before she can lose her nerve again. Reads it over, rereads it.
Will you come down to the cottage so we can talk?
She presses send.